


Turned out to be something I should've known

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beacon Hills High School, Fantasy, High School, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, but nothing happens, day dream, technically underaged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Wonder what he's doing right now</i>, Stiles wondered idly, glancing at the time. Two in the afternoon? Guy like Derek could be doing just about anything. Maybe sitting around reading, or driving around in his mom-mobile, plotting horrible fates for Peter...</p>
<p>Maybe he was doing normal guy stuff. Like grocery shopping or taking a walk or, hell, who knows? Maybe even masturbating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turned out to be something I should've known

**Author's Note:**

> Day 19 of Merry Month of Masturbation

Coach Finstock seemed to have it in his head that by showing videos every now and then during economics class made him a "cool teacher". He got really excited when he'd pull down the projection screen and announce, for example, "Today we're watching a video called ‘The Core of What Economics Teaches Us' by, uh, I don't know, some guy from Alabama."

Finstock would mumble the whole time he set the video up, always needing Danny to help him switch the AV output. Every. Time.

The lights turned off, the blinds were shut and the classroom became an insulated hotbox of stagnant teen hormones and teens fighting to stay awake. Stiles already got rapped in the head with a lacrosse stick once for falling asleep one of Finstock's videos, he didn't want to repeat the experience.

While Finstock was enraptured by the guy in the video Stiles dug his nails into his palms, chewed at the skin around his nails, jiggled his legs under his desk until Lydia shot him a glare from two rows away. He sat upright, slouched down, wiggled—anything to stay awake and alert.

_If I weren't here what would I be doing?_ Stiles thought, gazing off into nothing. Probably either gaming online or, depending on the monster of the week, researching for the pack. 

Derek would have sailed through his window the night before, all eyebrows and grumpy frown telling Stiles the bare minimum of what he needed to know to pass on to the pack. 

But lately that wasn't even the case. Since Mexico Derek was different. That might have been how the old Derek would have acted but now Derek was... less frowny? Still eyebrows, always eyebrows. 

The last time he stopped by it was in the evening and he used the front door. Had a beer with his dad while the three of them went over cold cases his Dad kept at the house for just such an occasion.

_Huh,_ Stiles thought, realizing it'd been a while since Derek even glared at him. 

_Wonder what he's doing right now_ , Stiles wondered idly, glancing at the time. Two in the afternoon? Guy like Derek could be doing just about anything. Maybe sitting around reading, or driving around in his mom-mobile, plotting horrible fates for Peter...

Maybe he was doing normal guy stuff. Like grocery shopping or taking a walk or, hell, who knows? Maybe even masturbating.

Stiles' mind fell down the rabbit hole and he could imagine Derek standing by the big window, one hand pressed against the glass so he could feel the sun warming his palm. The other hand would be in his pants, stroking his length. Stiles figured it'd be a good size, something he could wrap his hand around nicely.

But if Derek's in his own place, alone, why's he doing it so haphazardly? 

Stiles pictured him stretched out across his bed, the bed that was so prominently placed in his one-room place. Derek was more tan than usual then, went out running with Scott and Liam more often than not now.

He'd arch up while playing his fingers over his nipples, avoiding his cock just long enough to draw a moan from himself. Rub his hands up and down his solid torso, tracing around each ab that would twitch under his light touch. 

Maybe he'd want to feel a little exposed so he'd bend his legs up, spreading himself open enough for someone to see. Run his fingernails up and down the inside of his thighs, against the more sensitive skin there and leave some marks that would fade too quickly.

His cock would be so hard against his belly, and when he finally wrapped a hand around himself he'd let out a long groan and bite his lip, even though he didn't have to be quiet. He wasn't used to having pleasure and knowing it was okay so it was an automatic response.

Because of that he'd strip his cock quickly, wanting to take more time but wanting the release so badly, needing the immediacy of the rush and satisfaction.

His cock would twitch and his balls draw up and pulse while he unloaded all over his skin, gasping while he would almost curl into a ball and let out grunting moans. Finally he'd stretch out and lazily rub the come into his skin, mess be damned. 

Stiles' hand rubbed across the surface of his desk and he blinked when he realized Scott's eyes were boring into him from across the aisle.

"You okay?" he mouthed, worried.

Stiles looked down and breathed deep, trying to keep his heart from speeding up. Didn't seem to work because when he nodded in return Scott's eyes narrowed.

"It's fine, nothing," Stiles mouthed back, as sincerely as one could without actual words. Scott still seemed suspicious but turned back to the video.

Sure, it was nothing. Nothing but Stiles realization that he was imagining Derek while he was the one jerking him off.

_Nothing at all_ , his mind thought hysterically.


End file.
